


Third Time Lucky

by luna_sol



Series: Where I Put You [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Feels, Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò "Acts of Service" di Genova is one too, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova is a Little Shit, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-28 18:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30143988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna_sol/pseuds/luna_sol
Summary: Anticipation crawls down his spine, Yusuf is finally getting what he needs.--In which, good things come to those who wait and Nicolò will make good on his promise to Yusuf (after first putting on a little show, the unmitigated son of a goat).
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Where I Put You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2218629
Comments: 17
Kudos: 91





	1. Anticipation

**Author's Note:**

> Not the longer piece I was supposed to be working on, but what I have so...enjoy? ^^'  
> Thanks to all the folks who've listened to me yell, sprinted with me, and watched my nickname change with amusement.

Anticipation crawls up his spine as they make their way closer to civilization. The city that has been looming in the distance for the last few hours is solidifying and Yusuf estimates that it will take less than an hour’s ride before they reach the gatehouse. By mutual agreement, he and Nicolò will be renting a room in the hopes of getting at least one night’s reprieve from their endless travels. They can rest and restock their provisions as necessary before carrying on to Constantinople to hopefully find the women in their dreams. And if Yusuf has another motive for wanting an inn and a bed _now_ , the quicksilver flash of heat in his companion’s eyes assures him that Nicolò is well-aware of the actual reason and _has plans_.

Yusuf allows his mind to wander to what those plans might be - it’s been _weeks_ since **that time**. Weeks since Yusuf woke up subsumed by the remnants of a wordless, overwhelming pleasure and a solicitous Nicolò behind him, offering everything in his power to take care of Yusuf. Weeks since they talked and admitted their burgeoning feelings for one another. Weeks since their relationship shifted into something new, something bold, something infinitely _more_.

With intentions stated clearly between them, Yusuf sees the way Nicolò becomes more _open_ with his affections - how he uses a soft touch to announce his presence, how he places the best portion of their meal on Yusuf’s plate, how he sleeps with Yusuf at his back leaving his hands free to protect them. Yusuf in turn, allows himself to be less _restrained_ \- he is able to touch Nicolò as he wishes, able to recite all manners of poetry and praise, able to spend all the time he wants at Nicolò’s side and know that he’s not intruding. Yusuf is giddy with the new development and he feels a palpable weight lift from his shoulders.

There is no point in hiding - not that Yusuf thinks he can ever hide anything from those attentive seafoam eyes. So what if the other man knows how stupid and addled Yusuf can get in the throes of passion? He actively contributes to Yusuf’s pleasure and takes his own in Yusuf; turnabout is fair play - Yusuf is _very_ happy to contribute to Nicolò’s pleasure and get his own as well. Nicolò already knows Yusuf at his lowest point and all he does is take care of him and see to his every need. (Yusuf has similarly seen Nicolò at _his_ lowest point early on in their acquaintance - and he knows that despite their poor start, Nicolò di Genova is a good man. He holds kindness within him and is selfless and giving. Yusuf sees him display that same thoughtfulness wherever they go, aiding others even to the detriment of himself.)

What Yusuf currently **needs** is to be taken. Vigorously. For some reason unknown to him, Nicolò has been rather obstinate about not giving Yusuf what he needs. Their last encounter - two nights prior - had come close. It wasn’t _quite_ what Yusuf had anticipated but it certainly left an impression.

 _They had been kissing and rutting against each other for quite some time, Nicolò perched on top of him. Yusuf shuddered, mind going hazy with the thought that Nicolò might take him again - that it might be like_ **_that other time_** _. Nicolò pulled back first to rid himself of his clothes and Yusuf followed suit eagerly. He turned to their packs to find the vial of oil; they had purchased it at high cost and were much more careful of the vial than anything else in their belongings. Yusuf proffered the oil to Nicolò, who smiled demurely and took it with a small murmur of thanks._

_Yusuf laid fully down on his back, spreading his legs wider, and Nicolò turned that adorable, crooked grin down at him. He opened the vial of oil and poured some onto his fingers, rubbing and spreading the viscous liquid around._

_“Hold this for me, tesoro?” Nicolò asked, handing the vial back to Yusuf. Like a fool, Yusuf took it and held onto it in one hand, careful not to spill its contents. Nicolò’s crooked smile widened into a smirk and he flipped around, presenting Yusuf with his magnificent backside. He then proceeded to use the oil to open_ **_himself_ ** _up._

_Yusuf choked on a moan watching as the first finger traced the small furl of Nicolò’s entrance hypnotically and then sunk in. Nicolò let out a breathy little cry on top of him, spreading his knees wider on either side of Yusuf. He rested his free hand on Yusuf’s upper thigh, careful not to touch his leaking erection, and then his spine dipped. Nicolò pistoned that single digit in and out of his hole, fingers glistening with oil. Yusuf whimpered as he watched the rise and fall of Nicolò’s ass. He is torn between watching his beloved’s face and his beloved’s ass - but not so much that he missed the curve of that sadistic little smirk on Nicolò’s face as he worked a second finger inside._

_“Yusuf,” Nicolò moaned._

_Yusuf jerked at the sound of his name, sharply reminded of his own arousal; he wrapped his hand around his aching cock and squeezed it brutally. Once he thought he had himself under control, he reached out to trace worshipful fingers across the curve of Nicolò’s ass. Nicolò tilted his ass back in silent permission and Yusuf lifted one cheek to the side - to better see the dusky hole where Nicolò is taking himself so greedily. His breath caught._

_“If you wouldn’t mind, tesoro,” Nicolò began and Yusuf looked up into that angelic visage, “I need some more oil.”_

_Nicolò took his fingers out of his ass and held the palm outward, facing Yusuf. The arch of his spine looked painful, but Nicolò seemed to hold the position with ease as Yusuf brought the vial forward and poured with a shaking hand. Yusuf only deemed it sufficient when there was a small puddle in the middle of Nicolò’s palm. Nicolò swiped thick fingers through the oil and then began to rub his fingers together again._

_“Thank you, Yusuf,” Nicolò purred as he plunged three fingers inside himself._

_Yusuf’s hips snapped up and his hands shook, accidentally upending some of the oil onto his stomach. He looked around frantically for the stopper cap of the vial, needing to cork the bottle and set it aside but his attention was immediately caught again by Nicolò moaning on top of him. Nicolò made a show of opening himself wider with those three fingers and Yusuf could only watch, riveted. He whimpered, unable to even bring a fist up to stifle the sound, as Nicolò rolled his hips and pushed back onto those thick fingers of his._

_Yusuf had just managed to find the cap and shoved it into the vial when Nicolò stilled on top of him. Nicolò groaned, long and throaty - he must have finally found that sweet spot within himself. Yusuf’s neglected erection made itself known again, throbbing and adding to the mess on his stomach._

_It did not escape Nicolò’s sharp eyes, because with little preamble, Nicolò withdrew his hand from where he had been opening himself up and wrapped his wet hand around Yusuf’s dick. Yusuf thrusted up blindly into that familiar, calloused grip. Nicolò turned around and gave him one more stroke before abruptly sinking down on him, taking him all the way in with one smooth movement. Yusuf yowled, throwing the vial carelessly to the side as his hands came up instinctively to grip Nicolò’s hips and he dug his heels into the ground. Yusuf could only fuck up into that tight, wet heat, chasing his own orgasm._

_He barely managed a handful of thrusts before firm hands were placed upon his chest, pushing him flat onto his back again. Yusuf blinked hazy lust-filled eyes at Nicolò above him._

_“Allow me,” Nicolò purred._

_Nicolò reseated himself with a small hum, and then set a blistering pace. Yusuf’s own hips could hardly keep up and he watched, spellbound by the sight of Nicolò above him. Nicolò tossed his head back, rising and sinking down on Yusuf’s cock as if it’s only his mission in life. Yusuf’s hands spasmed around Nicolò’s hips as he tried to help Nicolò along - not that he needed it. (Yusuf spared a thought for how envious he is of Nicolò’s mount as Nicolò continued riding him like his own personal stallion.)_

_Yusuf was close and he wanted Nicolò to reach his peak at the same time, but even as he reached a hand towards Nicolò’s erection, it was batted away. Nicolò leaned down to kiss Yusuf instead - and Yusuf could only kiss back enthusiastically, tongue fucking into Nicolò in much the same way as his hips. Yusuf felt the upturn rise of Nicolò’s lips against his own and then there is a hand_ **_twisting_ ** _one of Yusuf’s nipples. Yusuf yelped into the kiss; he was_ **_right_ ** _on the cusp and he just needed - Nicolò tangled one hand into the curls at the base of his neck and_ **_yanked_** _._

 _That wicked mouth pulled away from his lips to brush against his earlobe. “The next time I have you, tesoro, will be in a_ **_bed_** _.” And Nicolò followed his words by clenching around Yusuf._

_Yusuf emptied himself with a high, whimpery cry that he’d be ashamed of, if Nicolò hadn’t already seen him through worse and more embarrassing situations. Nicolò slowed his pace, ass wringing the last drops of Yusuf’s seed from him as Yusuf shuddered through his orgasm._

_It took Yusuf some time to recover, noticing only when cool air hit his softening cock and he hissed. Nicolò is perched on his thighs again, one hand fisting himself languidly as he watches Yusuf with a pleased half-smile._

_“Would you like my mouth, habibi?” Yusuf rasped, hands reaching for Nicolò’s cock. “What do you need?”_

_Nicolò’s eyes were sharp and considering as he reached a hand out to the mess on Yusuf’s stomach, where the earlier spill still remained. He ran a finger through it and Yusuf’s stomach quivered underneath that single touch._

_“May I partake of your thighs?” Nicolò asked, so very sweetly as he rose, leaving Yusuf the space to turn if he wished. As if he wasn’t trying to kill Yusuf all over again._

_Yusuf felt flushed and shaky all over as turned onto his side. Nicolò, to his surprise, settled in front of him and Yusuf moved to accommodate him. One broad hand swept through the mess on Yusuf’s stomach and then came the sensation of oil and seed being spread between his open thighs. Yusuf shuddered when Nicolò rested one hand on his hip, in the inverse of earlier. Nicolò’s cock found its way between Yusuf’s thighs and he closed his legs to form a tighter channel for his beloved, knowing how good it felt._

_Nicolò’s breath hitched and he moved slowly, seemingly at peace now that he has wrested Yusuf’s orgasm from him. The friction was sublime - there hadn’t been enough oil left on either Yusuf’s stomach or Nicolò’s hand to render this act smooth. Guileless aquamarine eyes bore holes into Yusuf’s own as Nicolò’s cock found the soft skin behind his balls and Yusuf clenched his legs together instinctively. Nicolò was panting, fanning hot breath across Yusuf’s cheek with each tiny thrust - Yusuf leaned forward to kiss Nicolò again and Nicolò spilled just like that, moaning into his mouth. Yusuf remembered being -_

A gentle touch at Yusuf’s elbow brings him back to the present moment. Yusuf follows the hand down, until he sees the face of his beloved - those luminous eyes dancing with warmth and laughter. As always, Nicolò is a vision that Yusuf won’t forget anytime soon - though Yusuf is confused as to why Nicolò is no longer on his horse.

“Having good thoughts, Yusuf?” Nicolò purrs, voice dropping directly to the pitch that haunts Yusuf’s waking dreams. 

Yusuf feels himself twitch in his pants, half-hard already in his loose pants. “So it would seem.”

“Well, if you’d like a few moments to compose yourself and then we can get a room?” Nicolò tilts his head to the tavern in front of them and Yusuf blinks. He does not recall riding into the city proper. The smile on Nicolò’s face tells him he noticed it earlier. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

There is a wealth of innuendo in Nicolò’s voice and eyes - Yusuf _revels_ in the fact that he can recognize it now. He takes a few deep breaths and then manages to dismount without making a fool of himself. Nicolò takes the lead of Yusuf’s gelding and ties it to the hitching rail beside his own mare. He then brushes a fond hand down the mare’s nose, speaking in a low voice to her. 

Yusuf takes the reprieve for what it is and tries to calm himself - focusing on the cadence of Nicolò’s voice rather than the banked heat in his eyes. Yusuf smiles as he listens to the lilting rhythm of his lover’s voice - his **lover**. That he can call Nicolò such now, is a gift beyond words, beyond measure, beyond reason. He loves this man - and this man loves him in return. 

When Yusuf opens his eyes again, Nicolò’s gaze is on him and there is a soft, sweet smile playing at the corner of his lips. Yusuf doesn’t even try to stop his grin from overtaking his face. Yusuf walks over and touches his head gently to Nicolò’s. “Shall we go in, habibi?” 

With one last pat to both the gelding and the mare, Nicolò and Yusuf head inside together. They meet the tavernkeep almost as soon as they step inside the entrance. It is quick work to obtain a room for the night and boarding and feed for their horses; their own food will have to be ordered closer to when they wished to eat. The tavernkeep is also gracious enough to answer their questions and give directions to the masjid, the hammam, and the closest marketplace. They leave with their room key in hand - Yusuf is pleased with how quickly business was concluded.

“Why don’t you visit the bathhouse first and I’ll settle the horses?” Nicolò offers as they reach their mounts.

Yusuf is about to argue - it would surely take less time if they each settled their own horse and then they can visit the hammam together. Except, the glint in Nicolò’s eyes speaks of plans and their execution - he’s merely waiting for Yusuf to catch up. And as Yusuf really considers the thought, he comes to the realization that they would be bathing together. In a hammam. _Now_. With Yusuf feeling how he does. Yusuf swallows, mouth suddenly as dry as the desert they’ve been travelling.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, habibi, we’ll do that,” Yusuf says. He digs through his pack for everything he might need and gives Nicolò his gelding’s lead again. At least his horse is well-behaved enough that he doesn’t kick - Yusuf throws a baleful glare at the mare.

“Stop glaring at Angelina,” Nicolò says, amusement thick in his voice. “Take your bath, I’ll see you soon.”

“She is shaytan,” Yusuf murmurs petulantly. 

Nicolò only nudges him with his elbow in reply, giving him a fond look. Yusuf knows enough now to recognize the suppressed desire in that piercing gaze, and anticipation comes crashing back down on him, arousal coiling in his gut. Yusuf goes, walking the few hundred paces until he reaches the hammam. 

He completes his ablutions in a haze, too preoccupied with thoughts of what’s to come later - of how Nicolò might fulfill his promise. He observes etiquette, but beyond that, Yusuf can’t pay attention to anything except the itchiness under his skin. He has to wave off the attendant so he can scrub himself down, unsure that he can stand anybody else’s touch besides his own right now (unless it was Nicolò’s). He washes his hair thoroughly, getting rid of the grime and dust, but does not stay to socialize.

On his way out of the hammam, he crosses paths with Nicolò, and his love smiles at him - that small, private smile Yusuf attempts to recreate on parchment whenever he has the opportunity.

“If you should like to order us supper, we can dine once I finish my bath.” Nicolò presses their room key into his hand, the metal solid and warm with body heat. Answering warmth pools in his stomach and Yusuf nods in agreement, adamantly trying not to look down at the loincloth covering his beloved’s privates. 

He tries to pace himself on the way back to the tavern, knowing that Nicolò doesn’t tend to take as long in the hammam as he does. Anticipation and arousal lick down his spine, hurrying his steps nonetheless. Yusuf orders and pays for two simple meals from the tavernkeep and is directed to an empty bench to wait. It is still early in the evening; there aren’t many others around, save for some weary travellers who look Yusuf up and down and offer him a single, solitary nod. Yusuf returns their salutations from where he sits.

Nicolò proves to have impeccable timing and makes it back moments after their meal is prepared. Yusuf’s breath catches; his love is radiant - skin glowing from his recent bath, cheeks flushing from his walk, and those indescribable eyes reflecting love and warmth directed only at Yusuf. Yusuf feels like the luckiest man alive. He can’t stop looking at Nicolò across from him, desire and love curling in his belly like warm, content cats.

Yusuf leaves for salat before starting their meal (it only takes the glow on Nicolò’s face shifting for him to realize that it was not so much a glow as the light of the fading sun) and Nicolò waits for his return despite the extended length of time Yusuf takes for prayer this night. They eat their meal with no interruptions, but Yusuf only gets increasingly more wound up the closer they get to finishing. 

Nicolò must see the tension in his body because he places one hand on Yusuf’s knee and squeezes. “Nearly there, tesoro.”

Yusuf shudders - the lust he has been fighting off all afternoon makes itself known at hearing that endearment. Nicolò looks vaguely apologetic and squeezes Yusuf’s knee once more before retracting his hand. They finish the rest of their meal in silence.

Yusuf tries not to let impatience get the better of him as they get up to wash their hands at the basin in the far corner, pouring water from a bird-shaped pitcher that ordinarily would have Yusuf effusive with praise over the clever design. They make their way upstairs together with haste, Yusuf leading the way.

The door just closes behind them in their rented room before Yusuf throws himself upon Nicolò, kissing him in earnest. Nicolò’s back hits the door with a dull thud but he doesn’t make a sound, merely raising both hands to cup Yusuf’s cheeks. His hands smell of sage and orange from the cleaning water downstairs and he just _holds_ Yusuf’s face as they keep kissing and kissing.

The touch grounds Yusuf, allowing him to finally pull back. He is _throbbing_ in his pants and his eyes must look wild.

“Nicolò, _please_. You said -” Nicolò shushes him, kissing him again and walking them back towards the bed slowly, but Yusuf’s patience snaps and he throws himself onto the bed, pulling Nicolò down on top of him. “ **Have me**.”

There is something utterly soft in the way that Nicolo bends and kisses him, “very well, tesoro. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

Anticipation crawls down his spine, Yusuf is finally getting what he needs.


	2. Ignition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yusuf is awash in sensation, hazy and sultry. He has no other words for it, the languid pull that takes ahold of all of his limbs at those words; the sensation is sublime and it empties all thoughts from his head - except for one. _Nicolò_. That Nicolò will be there to catch him is the only surety he knows and Yusuf allows himself to go hurtling over the precipice and he **falls**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is an adequate conclusion to the previous chapter. (Author may have gone a little overboard with the fire metaphors.)

Something in Nicolò’s demeanour changes - that honed, marksman focus sharpening - and the only thing in his sights right now is _Yusuf_. Large hands come up to cup his face again - so very tenderly - and then Nicolò kisses him. Deeply. Skilfully. Messily. Nicolò kisses without artifice or pretense. All of his unvoiced passion let loose, channeled through his ravenous mouth as he devours Yusuf whole. 

Something molten unfurls in Yusuf’s stomach in response. Nicolò’s kiss is an assault on all his senses and Yusuf is unravelling. (There is something _just_ out of his reach and Yusuf isn’t quite there yet. He doesn’t know _how_ to get there and can only whimper needily into Nicolò’s mouth, forlorn and desperate.)

Nicolò gentles his kiss, hands caressing the arch of Yusuf’s cheekbones as he moves to pull away - Yusuf immediately chases after his mouth, hands tightening around Nicolò’s hips to hold him close. Nicolò assuages Yusuf’s urgency with tenderness - kissing him back so very sweetly and full of affection until he has no choice but to melt into Nicolò’s wandering hands. Those large hands stroke soothingly up and down his back, until one settles at the base of his spine and the other twines into his still damp curls.

Nicolò tugs on his curls, pulling Yusuf’s head back - and _away from Nicolò_ \- Yusuf growls in displeasure as he looks up into those stormy, lust-filled eyes. If the infuriating man means to deny him again, Yusuf _will_ tie him down to the bed and take what he pleases - the horse reins will work well for ropes, he knows it. But with one sensuous glide, Nicolò’s hand makes its way from the base of his spine to his front and cups his crotch and Yusuf groans, rebellious thoughts scattering.

He thrusts up into that perfect touch even as Nicolò pulls away; Yusuf compensates by clenching his hands even harder around Nicolò’s hips, scrabbling to pull him back. Nicolò’s pants slip from the force and Yusuf is suddenly touching bare skin - his breath hitches as he reverently traces the soft skin revealed. There are perfect half-moon crescents dug into Nicolò’s flesh from where Yusuf had been clinging too tightly. Yusuf lets out a sorrowful noise even as the marks disappear before his eyes. He leans forward, meaning to brush apologetic kisses against unblemished skin, but Nicolò’s grip in his hair stops him.

“Nico _lò_ ,” Yusuf whines, drawing out the last syllable of his lover’s name. He pouts, curling his hands carefully and trying to reel Nicolò back in.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says, with a pointed tug on his curls. Yusuf shudders, heat sparking at the base of his skull and licking downwards. Arousal spreads like wildfire through his body - the hair-pulling alone would have been enough to make Yusuf overeager and pliant, but in conjunction with his name in _that_ tone of voice - Yusuf ends up humping air.

Yusuf glares mutinously up at his lover, the unmitigated son of a goat - he _just_ said that he’d give Yusuf what he needs not that long ago, but he still hasn’t done anything. Nicolò’s lips curve, just the smallest twitch upwards as if he can read Yusuf’s thoughts on his face, and then he yanks on Yusuf’s curls again, just that much harder this time. Yusuf cries out, whole body arching with the strength of that grip; his hands fall uselessly to his sides and his eyes flutter with pleasure. He makes a hazy mental note to hide his expressions better in the future.

Nicolò gently touches his forehead to Yusuf’s as he disentangles his hand from Yusuf’s curls; he digs into the space at the back of Yusuf’s neck and Yusuf mewls in pleasure, panting into the small space between them.

“Nicolò, please!”

“Shh, tesoro,” Nicolò croons. “Our evening would go easier if we undressed, yes?”

Yusuf blinks at him lethargically. That would make matters simpler, yes. He tries to summon up the energy to lift his hands, managing to loosely fist the bottom edge of his tunic.

“You’ve been so good for me, Yusuf. Let me undress you. Let me take care of you.”

Yusuf melts at the words, body uncurling and leaning back towards the mattress. What could he say in the face of such an earnest entreaty? He nods, uncharacteristically docile, and his lover returns it with the softest smile Yusuf has seen on his face yet. (It’s breathtaking and worth **everything**.)

“Lift your hands for me, tesoro,” Nicolò demands quietly. Yusuf obeys. Nicolò’s hands grasp the bottom of his tunic and lift, slow and careful, raising it over Yusuf’s shoulders and head without catching on his hair.

“Thank you, tesoro.” Nicolò presses a brief kiss to his forehead and then kneels in front of him. Yusuf nearly swallows his tongue, hips jerking at the sight. Nicolò makes short work of unfastening his sandals and placing them on the side. “Lift your hips for me, please.”

Yusuf rises, trying his best not to shove his leaking dick right into Nicolò’s entirely-too-amused face - it would serve him right. Yusuf recognizes what that slight uptick in the corner of his lips mean now. Deft, confident hands untie and pull down his pants, similarly setting them to the side and Yusuf is bare in front of the man he loves. 

Nicolò’s otherworldly gaze holds him there, full of worship and desire. Still on his knees, Nicolò leans forward to brush reverent kisses to Yusuf’s inner thighs. Yusuf shudders and then takes the initiative to lay fully down on his back, spreading his legs wide open in invitation once more.

Nicolò blinks, something scorching and feral shining through his eyes for a split-second before he gets it under control. He rises, undressing himself with small, economic movements, and drops his clothes on top of Yusuf’s own. Nicolò takes the two steps to their packs, fetching the oil and a rag, before he’s finally, _finally_ on top of Yusuf, kneeling in the space between his open legs.

It is _Nicolò_ who is shuddering this time, Yusuf can see the tremors in those broad shoulders right before he ducks his head. And then all Yusuf registers is _warmth_ as his cock is engulfed to the root. Yusuf whines, hands coming up to clutch at Nicolò’s hair. Nicolò isn’t teasing anymore, skilled mouth working along Yusuf’s length with a clear goal in mind.

The uncorking of the vial is a distant sound in the room and before he knows it, one of Nicolò’s slick fingers is tracing his entrance with no pressure at all. Yusuf groans, pushing back against the digit until it sinks in. Nicolò opens him just like that - slick and slow and steady - pace unwavering despite how Yusuf begs. Clever fingers find and rub at his sweet spot incessantly while that hot mouth works him over; Yusuf feels like he’s crawling out of his skin, mindless with pleasure.

Nicolò’s pulls off until only the head of his dick remains in that plush mouth, agile tongue prodding _right_ at the scar where Yusuf is most sensitive, and he _sucks_. Yusuf spills with a cry, torn between pushing further into Nicolò’s mouth and back onto his fingers. Nicolò takes the decision out of his hand by swallowing him all the way back down and pressing his fingers up, stroking _right there_ until Yusuf is trembling through the last of his orgasm. When Nicolò pulls off, Yusuf is just shy of overstimulated and Nicolò pets soothingly at his hips (the son of a goat).

Yusuf groans, reaching out with needy hands to pull at those wide shoulders and bring his love closer. He can taste his own seed in Nicolò’s mouth as they kiss and he drinks it in greedily. When Nicolò finally pulls away, they are both out of breath, panting wetly into each other’s mouths. It is shockingly intimate and it cleaves Yusuf down to his core. He looks up into those fathomless eyes of Nicolò’s and the heat there threatens to burn him alive. (Yusuf would let it, if only because he knows he would awaken cradled in his lover’s embrace, flesh remade anew but still branded with Nicolò’s indelible touch.)

“Have me,” he whispers again, even as he leans up to kiss Nicolò. That crawling sensation is back under his skin, thrumming in his veins, and Yusuf **needs**.

“I will. You’ve been so good for me, Yusuf,” Nicolò murmurs against his lips, clean hand coming up to cup the base of his skull again. “Let me live up to my words and take care of you.”

Yusuf shudders, he was never in doubt, but to hear such words from his normally reserved lover is an attack on his composure, on his very being. Nicolò has never been effusive, not in the same way Yusuf himself is, preferring action to speech; yet something about his simple words strikes the tinder in Yusuf’s hollow bones and sets him aflame. The very _air_ between them is charged with intent as Nicolò kisses him again, deep and plundering. Nicolò takes this time, without reservation. He kisses, not with the intent to conquer, but with the intent to take possession of Yusuf’s very soul. ( _Inshallah_ , Yusuf will give it to him.)

“I have you, tesoro. **Let go** ,” Nicolò commands, with the same intensity as before, squeezing the nape of his neck. Something within Yusuf finally knocks loose, and then realigns perfectly - _oh_.

Yusuf is awash in sensation, hazy and sultry. He has no other words for it, the languid pull that takes ahold of all of his limbs at those words; the sensation is sublime and it empties all thoughts from his head - except for one. _Nicolò_. That Nicolò will be there to catch him is the only surety he knows and Yusuf allows himself to go hurtling over the precipice and he **falls**. 

It’s like being doused in the perfect temperature of water at the hammam, like sharing warmth under the blankets by the fire, like every pleasant sensation Yusuf has ever felt coalesced into a single point in time. A point where there is only himself and Nicolò. And those large hands of Nicolò’s caressing his body in devotion. Yusuf thinks he purrs in contentment again.

Nicolò’s face is right above his own and he’s peering down at Yusuf with love and lust and the smallest amount of concern. Yusuf smiles, wide and helpless, hoping to settle any of his misgivings and Nicolò smiles back at him - a small, secretive thing. There is no one and nothing besides himself and Nicolò; it is a personal haven just for Yusuf.

Nicolò’s hands are warm on his skin, and more erotic than any attendant’s, as they traverse down the planes and ridges of Yusuf’s body - past his throat with just the barest hint of pressure, down the line of Yusuf’s torso, and then bypassing Yusuf’s cock to stroke at the soft skin of his inner thighs. Yusuf scoffs, thrusting up lazily, and tries to open his hips even wider to get Nicolò where he wants him.

There’s a small huff of amusement even as Nicolò shakes his head fondly at him.

“As you wish, tesoro.”

There is a small clatter as Nicolò sets something on the ground and then one thick forearm splays across Yusuf’s lower stomach, pinning him to the mattress. It feels like a physical brand across Yusuf’s very being, a welcome line of heat serving to ground him in the present moment. Nicolò breaches him again, fingers wet with oil, and proceeds to work him open carefully and thoroughly - attentive eyes never leaving Yusuf’s face, on guard for any hint of unease. Yusuf blinks slowly up at Nicolò, who only smiles that precious, private smile at him and then crooks those clever fingers. 

Yusuf gasps, a sharp inhale of breath, body twisting with pleasure but going nowhere, held as he is by Nicolò’s arm. Nicolò keeps working him open just like that - until Yusuf is moaning with abandon, until Yusuf is drooling with pleasure, until Yusuf is quivering with every pass over his sweet spot. Yusuf feels like molten glass, bending shape under the will of Nicolò’s skillful touch, and he _yields_ , body going lax with pleasure. 

Moments later, Nicolò withdraws his fingers. Yusuf barely has the chance to mourn the loss of those fingers, before he sees that large hand wrap around Nicolò’s own length, stroking it just the once, and then guiding himself to where Yusuf is empty. It is exquisite - a slow, inexorable pressure as Nicolò sinks in all the way to the hilt. Yusuf sighs in contentment as he is finally filled. Nicolò rolls his hips and Yusuf groans, body set alight with sensation.

Nicolò releases his iron-grip on Yusuf’s stomach and trails his hand up Yusuf’s chest, tweaking a nipple along the way - Yusuf grunts, shoving his chest forward and trying to get more of that fleeting touch. The hand comes to rest on Yusuf’s shoulder, thumb curling behind his neck and stroking _just right_. Yusuf’s head lolls, eyes slitting in pleasure. Nicolò’s other hand rearranges Yusuf’s opposite leg to hook behind him and then settles on Yusuf’s hip. 

Yusuf feels the imprint of Nicolo’s hands on his body so much deeper than on mere flesh; they hold him in place for where Nicolò _wants him to be_ , and he melts. Nicolò moves then, fucking into him with pinpoint accuracy, the secrets of Yusuf’s body already brought to the surface and laid bare beneath Nicolò’s piercing gaze. As always, Nicolò brings his single-minded focus and intensity to the task at hand - _Yusuf._

Liquid heat spreads from where they are joined and spiral outwards, the gentle lick of flames from a hearth fire rather than the ravenous blaze of wildfire from earlier. Syrup-sweet and honey-drenched, Yusuf is suffused in love and warmth. There is _only_ Yusuf and Nicolò above him. Yusuf wouldn’t even be sure that he exists, if not for the slow, steady pounding of Nicolò in him; Nicolò’s cock is a hot brand inside Yusuf, claiming him. Yusuf moves, body instinctively undulating to counter every push, pull, and slide of Nicolò’s, a give-and-take that requires no conscious thought on his part. (Yusuf will give absolutely everything over to Nicolò.)

Nicolò’s gaze on him is a tangible weight, pinning him even more effectively in place than the hands on his body. Yusuf loves the unwavering attention - Nicolò’s eyes never stray from his face, focused so utterly on whatever he sees there (everything, Nicolò sees absolutely _everything_ of his, and Nicolò loves him for it). Colours and sounds blur and bleed at the edges; everything is sensation. The throbbing in his dick matches the fluttering pulse beating at the hollow of his throat and Yusuf is _close_.

One large hand comes up to stroke his cheek, calloused thumb rubbing right underneath his eye. Yusuf nuzzles into the touch. Nicolò’s tender smile and luminous eyes get closer to Yusuf’s face as he bends down and brushes the softest of kisses along the opposite jawline.

“ _Tesoro._ ” The endearment is murmured directly against his cheek, the softest exhale of breath and it sends shivers down Yusuf’s spine. “I have you.”

Nicolò kisses him again, fierce and passionate and claiming _,_ as if there was anything of Yusuf’s that didn’t already belong to him. Nicolò’s kiss is heady - like the very best kind of intoxicant - and Yusuf spills, just like that. Nicolò follows him with a reverent whisper of his name, sacrament against his lips; the sensation of Nicolò’s release, the very heat of it, scalds Yusuf. The buzzing under his skin finally quietens and then disappears altogether, leaving behind only bliss. Yusuf is _floating_.

Nicolò’s hand is a steady and constant presence on Yusuf’s skin as he cleans them up, petting Yusuf all the while. The scratchy wool of the blanket makes Yusuf grumble in displeasure, and it is replaced almost immediately with Nicolò’s body on top of his, a solid line of heat pressing Yusuf down and tethering him. Yusuf hums, pleased. 

Nicolò’s lips brush the hollow of his throat and then his head settles just to the side of Yusuf’s own, baring his neck to Yusuf. “Sono qui, tesoro.”

A low, content purr rumbles from deep within Yusuf’s chest as he nuzzles forward, breathing in the scent of Nicolò. And Yusuf sleeps.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are highly appreciated and very motivational <3  
> Please let me know if I'm missing any tags or warnings. Thanks for reading~


End file.
